


HM-76

by MedicBaymax



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Dehydration, Drugging, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Survival, Trapped, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18290333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicBaymax/pseuds/MedicBaymax
Summary: A would-be simple mission goes badly south. Made and left for dead, Mac and Desi must piece together the events of a previous evening and get key information to the Phoenix team before its too late.





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing that hit Mac was the smell. Stagnant, sour, and uncomfortably human, given any other situation he would have identified the mix of concentrated urine and stale body odor as a long-neglected locker room. Given his current situation, particularly that he was lying with his face pressed hard against a cracked linoleum floor in pitch dark, his mouth uncomfortably dry and his head aching and foggy, he could only peg it for serious trouble. 

“Desi?” He croaked, pushing himself onto his forearms. The movement made him feel dizzy and sick. Despite the hard flooring, the sound seemed to stop dead in the air. There was no response. 

It was so dark he couldn’t tell whether or not his eyes were open. He reached out, his hand hitting nothing. “Desi?” He asked again. “Riley?” The sense of there being literally nothing in front of him that he could see or feel was deeply disorienting. He clawed numbly at his face, trying to pull away a blindfold that wasn’t there. “Boz?” Still no answer. “Matty?” He asked desperately. Nothing. 

He managed to push himself to a sitting position and forced a brief moment of panic to fade. He’d been with Desi. He didn’t remember much but he knew that. If he was in trouble, she probably was too. Unsure his body would let him stand, he leaned onto all fours. Despite the lack of incoming visual stimuli the world felt like it was spinning. “Desi!” 

He heard something move and he froze to make sure it wasn’t just the rustle of his own damp clothes. “Desi, if that’s you, say something.” The idea that it might not be Desi, and that they’d been going by different names the last his brain was able to recall struck a second moment of fear within him. 

He inched forward on all fours, feeling the ground gingerly in front of him. It was linoleum, long disused, with cracks and loose tiles. He could feel disturbed dust and paint chips under his hands. His eyes slowly closed but in the dark he didn’t notice. He knew he was moving ridiculously slow but there was a growing fear that he would never find a wall- that he could just keep edging forward forever and he’d be lost in the dark.

His eyes snapped open again as his hands finally hit something. Not a wall, this was something moderately forgiving and covered in satin. A body. Female. Desi. “Desi, hey.” He said urgently. She hadn’t responded to his touch. He felt his way up to her neck, feeling a pulse that was too fast under sticky skin. “Desi!” He said louder, shaking her shoulder. He felt her start, but she didn’t attack him. “Its me, its Mac.” He felt her groan tiredly and relax. “Wake up, Desi.” She didn’t respond. He felt her pulse again, eliciting not even a groan from her still form. 

Weak, disoriented, and unable to do any more, Mac pushed Desi onto her side and used his back to brace her in that position. 

\-----------------------------

“C’mon, Mac.” His face was pressed into the floor again. Desi was shaking him. “Hey, stay awake this time, huh?” As he opened his eyes, the room was no longer pitch dark, but an impossibly faint green light lent just a few photons to outline Desi’s face, less than a foot from his own. 

This time? Had he woken up again after he’d found her? He couldn’t remember, but she looked relieved as he pushed himself back into a sitting position. His head still throbbed, but it was clearer now than it had been. His mouth was so dry it was hard to swallow. “Mfgh.” He scrubbed his face with gritty hands. 

“That’s it, just… give it a minute.” She put a hand on his shoulder. Mac chose to interpret it as a comforting gesture, even though he was reasonably sure she was simply trying to prevent him from falling back over. 

“You good?” He asked. 

“I’ll live.” There was a sense of relief there. 

“What happened?” He asked, hoping she had a better answer for him. 

“I mean, we were made. Beyond that…” She raised her hands unhelpfully. Mac stood slowly, almost surprised when his head didn’t hit anything. Now he could see a wall a few feet to his left. A similar distance to his right he could make out a waist-high bank of dials and toggle switches, their labels illuminated with faint green glowing paint. Mac instinctively reached into his pocket. “Already checked.” Desi confirmed. “We’ve got no mics, no phones, no jewelry, no watches, no belts, no jackets. Nothing that could hold a GPS chip or comm device. And even if they had missed something, I think we’re underground. They were thorough.” 

“No blindfolds or handcuffs, though.” Mac offered hopefully, trying desperately to remember if there was a specific “they” Desi was referring to but coming up eerily short. Desi shook her head.

“Not sure that’s a good thing- all that means is that either they didn’t think we’d survive the drug they gave us, or they know we’re not going to be able to break out of here.” 

Mac sighed. The heat was stifling and he forced away the notion that even though they had survived, there was a lot that needed to happen for them to make it out alive. They had no food, no water, and judging by the utter and complete lack of airflow were working with a possibly limited amount of breathable air. That was on top of an extremely low likelihood anyone knew where they were or even that they were in trouble. “Then we’d better get to work- what’s the last thing you remember?”


	2. Chapter 2

24 Hours Earlier, South Miami

The sun had just about set, leaving only the barest whisper of red on the horizon between the silhouettes of coco palms and mangroves. Less than a mile from the Atlantic coast, lavish homes lined the Miami intercoastal waterways. Moored behind them, yachts and racing sailboats bobbed in the waterway’s light surf behind beautifully manicured yards, and in front, driveways showed off luxury sports cars and SUVs. 

Mac slipped out from behind the wheel of a matte grey Mercedes sedan and handed the keys to the waiting valet. The vehicle, like the fitted Armani suit and Rolex he was sporting would have amounted to pocket change to the people who called this street home. He merely hoped he was pulling them off well enough not to attract any attention. 

In a gentlemanly gesture, he came around to the passenger’s side and opened the door for Desi. She stepped out in strappy sandals and a mid-length, shimmering gold dress- one of the few options that allowed her to run without a high level of hindrance, hide three weapons of varying actions, and still not draw too much attention in the south Florida heat. “Shall we?” He took her arm and she smiled broadly at him. 

Like many others on the street, the house was a modern blend of concrete and wide windows overlooking the waterway. The front and side yards featured heavily manicured jungles of palm and tropical fruit trees. Few people milled on the front lawn, strolling leisurely to and from the open front door and enjoying the break from the intense-looking interior of the house. Inside, upscale Spanish club music pulsed to multicolored lights. Shadows of swaying partygoers were visible through the windows. 

“Riley, we’re approaching the front door, there’s a guy with a tablet checking people in.” Mac said under his breath. “Can you put us on the guest list?” 

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Mac?” Riley’s voice came in over Mac’s earpiece. “You’ve been on the guest list since about 2PM- a special request of the host.” 

“Much appreciated, Riley.” 

“Believe me, I don’t want to find out what happens to people he catches spying on him. Everything I’ve done is as legit as I could make it.” Mac internally cringed, thinking of the man whose party they were crashing tonight. 

A chemist by trade and a businessman by design, Kai Konig had made his fortune in imports of legal-by-default European designer drugs. He had been arrested four years ago in connection to a tainted supply of a then-unknown MDMA analog which had unfortunately caused the deaths of over 35 people. Following a lengthy interrogation, he’d managed to stay out of prison only through the continuous supply of extremely high-quality intelligence on his contacts in the international drug arena and a few substantial bribes the CDC and intelligence community had been gracious enough to overlook. But then earlier that year, the intelligence had become less reliable, less frequent, and then earlier that month had dried up entirely. Common understanding was that either something unfortunate had happened to Konig, or he had grown tired of being an asset to the US Government. 

And then his name had secured a deed to a brand new, high-profile, move-in-ready mansion on a prominent drag in southern Miami valued at well over $70 million. The Phoenix Foundation had understandably jumped at the chance to attend his housewarming party. 

Desi giggled as she and Mac approached the well-dressed guard stationed at the front door. He was tall and nearly three times Mac’s slim form, obviously armed, and looked exceptionally bored. “The soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Doyle Hoffman.” Desi offered the man happily, waving a hefty diamond obnoxiously in his face. He didn’t seem to pick up on her enthusiasm. 

“Mr. Hoffman, Ms. Liu.” The guard intoned. Desi let her face fall as she rolled her eyes. “Enjoy your evening.” 

“Ugh, party pooper.” She said, loudly enough for the guard to hear. He didn’t seem to care. 

The air conditioning had been cranked to its highest setting, spilling out over the porch in near-visible waves of fog. Just inside the door, a full bar adorned one wall. The opposite side of the room was set up as a DJ station, with a professional-looking sound and light rig that threw a pulsing laser grid over the party-goers. Scattered throughout the spacious entertainment space was sleek, expensive furniture and artwork. Konig may have moved in recently, but he’d wasted no time decorating. At the far corner, a welcoming staircase indicated that the party continued on upper levels as well. 

Mac ordered at the bar while Desi cased the room. “Damn, this guy knows how to throw a party!” A woman, about Mac’s build and age leaned heavily on the bar and sidled up close next to Mac. She was wearing a breezy romper and what in any other case would have been clocked as costume jewelry, but what Mac was nearly certain were real precious gemstones. Her forehead was plastered perspiration-soaked blonde hair from dancing. “Toni Cancio.” She offered her hand.

“Doyle Hoffman.” She squinted. 

“You, uh, new around here or something?” She asked playfully. 

“You could say that.” In his ear, Desi asked who his new friend was. Mac smiled. “My fiancé and I just bought the property at the end of the street.” He explained. “It will take some updates but my architect and contractor assure us we’ll be moving in by the fall.” 

Toni’s face dropped, eyeing Mac from head to toe. “Too bad.” She said, downing a shot and heading back out to the dance floor. 

Desi returned just as the bartender finished their drinks. “Miss me?” She asked sweetly. Mac snorted. 

“You wanna…” He gestured out to the dancefloor out of earshot of the bartender. 

“So ready.” 

Somehow it was even louder not twenty feet away. As soon as they couldn’t be overheard, Desi dropped the newly engaged routine. “I make three guards on this level- one out front, one circulating this level, one out back. I don’t know about upstairs. The second floor is open to party guests but it seems a little more low-key. According to Riley, our best chance of figuring out what’s going on is probably going to be on the third floor.” Mac nodded. 

“I saw a fire escape on the way in. Might be better to time the one guard outside than trying to sneak through the second floor.” He said. “Riley can you disable the security?” 

“Yes, but there’s a chance it might not give you much time.” Riley said. “The system resets itself at random intervals. Every time I’ve gotten in I’ve been booted out between eight and fifteen minutes later.” 

“That’s going to be a little tight.” Desi said. “Especially if we don’t even know what we’re looking for.” 

Mac looked at his watch. “I think I could get in and out in eight minutes.” He said. “If I get close to time I can head down to the second floor instead of going back out through the fire escape. Worst case we just have to do another pass.” 

“It seems doable.” Riley said. “One, sometimes two people have been up there for a few minutes at a time throughout the evening, but I’ve got infrared right now that says it’s clear. Seems like security is positioned at the bottom of the stairs, and they’ve only gone up there once physically the whole night, so that’s also in your favor.” 

“Mac you’ll go in. I’ll keep the outside guard away from the fire escape, and if it starts looking like you’re not going to make it out in time, I’ll head to the second floor and see what I can do about the guard in front of the stairs.” Desi explained. 

“It’s the smartest house I’ve ever met, so naturally I can have everything unlocked for you by the time you get around to the side of the house. You shouldn’t run into any problems there.” Riley said. 

They went to the back door, again in character. Desi said something about fresh air as she located the guard standing at the edge of the water, shooing a couple off a small yacht that was moored there. Mac went around to the side of the house. The base of the fire escape was conveniently covered by tropical foliage. As soon as Desi made it to the guard, Mac reached up to the first rung and used the wall to pull himself up to the small concrete landing. Inside the window, the lights were off and Mac couldn’t see anything moving in the room. 

“Okay, Mac, I’m disabling the security now.” Riley said in his ear. Mac heard a click from the window’s electronic locking mechanism. “You should be able to open it now.”

There was no handle from the outside, but there was a vine with rubbery leaves that grew up the side of the building. Mac plucked one off and used it to help grip the glass and move the window up enough to get a grip under it without leaving obvious fingerprints. 

He slipped inside, closing the window behind him. Even two stories above the party, the music was still very audible. He was in what appeared to be a guest bedroom. He blinked. Despite it having been dark outside, his eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the room. Everything seemed a little blurry. He blinked, trying make them adjust faster. “I don’t see anyone running towards you, so I’m going to assume you’re safe for now. There’s still no one else up on the third floor.” Riley updated. 

Mac took a few pictures of the room for diligence’s sake but couldn’t afford more time to poke around. Carefully, he slipped out into the hallway. It was also dark, with light coming up the stairs from the second-floor landing. He could hear people talking downstairs. The sound had kind of a weird echoic quality to it. 

Mac crept to the next room and heard the door click unlocked just as he got to it. It didn’t take more than a second or two of looking around to realize there was a very, very good reason for their asset to have fallen off the map. 

“Matty said our guy was a chemist, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” Riley asked hesitantly.

“I think we might be in a little more trouble than we thought.”


End file.
